The cold, stinging wind blows right through me, and
My existence is as invisible as a crying soul fighting to be free.
Day after day the old skin diminishes, and a new me is emerging.
My individuality is changing and the old me is diverging.
Sometimes I lie to myself and by creating this false identity,
I portray to the world a whole different being, a new entity.
It is due to the judgment of mankind,
That each soul lives a lie and leaves the mysterious truth behind.
If all were created equal as stated by law,
Then why must class prevail, shouldn't the world have no flaw?
Who shall judge the fairness of mankind?
When the creator himself cannot see corruption, he himself is blind.
It is known the world is indeed corrupt,
But we are all players in the game of life that no one interrupts.
One's true identity will never be revealed,
Because in front of the soul lies an opaque shield.
Throughout life, one changes his role to fit into the game,
The number of times a man changes his position is truly a shame.
Then I ask once again, who are you in reality?
The truth will never be known, and this is soul confidentiality.
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